Two Dancers Are Better Than One
by Snagrid
Summary: When Voldemort goes to the strip club, he sees two dancers that make him see that life isn't as bad as it seems.


The lights flashed, fluorescent blues and greens showering the room with brilliant colour. The smell of sweat and anticipation bled through the walls, coating the club-goers in it's alluring moisture. Music blasted through the magically-enhanced speakers, dancers barely clothed crossed the stage, their bodies gyrating to the beat.

At a lone table in the corner of the heated room, a man sat gazing upon the erotic dances. The men on stage were sensual, that was for sure, but he craved for more. The Dark Lord was unsatisfied with their bodies, the skinny men on stage leaving him much to be desired. He preferred his men with shape, with character. The music began to change as the men finished their dance, a slower, more sensual song began to flood the room.

Voldemort could not look away at the men who appeared from behind the curtain. They were breathtaking, in their thin Slytherin-green nighties, one with a slight muffin top visible through the translucent fabric and one with a massive saggy overhaul of grabbable flesh. Voldemort was rock hard.

Lucius Malfoy, seated beside the Dark Lord, took in the two boys with a lustful gaze. "Oh, my lord... They are simply exquisite. I remember these two boys, they are friends with Draco!" He exclaimed. Oh yes, Crabbe and Goyle. The two apes of Slytherin could not find stable jobs due to their atrocious grades, and had to resort to using their luscious bodies to rake in the money.

Voldemort grinned, finding the two men to be quite exceptional, capable of using their goods to make a living. The two former students made their way to center stage, slowly but alluringly removing their nighties, revealing a tight speedo-like material on both. The speedo was black with gold and green stripes, and tight enough to show the shape of their body underneath, just how the Dark Lord liked it. He licked his lips, wetting them with the moisture. He always felt an attraction to Crabbe specifically, the boy's plush form doing things for him that no one else did.

The boys' erotic dance continued for several more minutes until the song changed, and the two stepped off the stage and into the crowd as new dancers appeared behind the curtain. They seemed to gravitate towards the table that Voldemort and Lucius were residing at, moving swiftly through the crowd. When the two men stopped at the edge of the table, He Who Shall Not Be Named was in awe.

Seeing their scantily-clad bodies up close, their glistening skin changing colours with the flashing lights, caused Voldemort to stifle a moan at simply the sight of them. "You two…. Hmm, I seem to be in a very generous mood today. How are you for a quick meet in one of the private rooms?" He grinned with his serpent-like grin, giving the boys a seductive once-over.

Crabbe and Goyle glanced at each other, feeling honoured that the supreme Dark lord wanted them for his pleasure. They were quick to nod in agreement, and were whisked away to the most prestigious private room that the club had to offer. The room was extravagant, with beading across the walls and a king sized bed covered in romantic flower petals. It was exactly what Voldemort wanted.

He gave the two men a gentle push inside the room, and sat down on a chair in the middle of the room, his stone face giving no indication of his ever-growing excitement. "Now, boys. I will be paying very well….so I would like this to be a very pleasurable experience for me. Now, dance for me." The Slytherin males complied immediately, Goyle standing to the side so that Voldemort's favourite, Crabbe, could perform his well-rehearsed dance first.

Crabbe sauntered over to where Voldemort was sitting, getting a good look at his corpse-like skin tone and beady eyes. Drinking him in, he began to give him a lap dance, never losing eye contact. He stroked his flab, the Dark Lord's eyes finally drifting from his to rest upon his wandering hand. Putting his face close, Vincent Crabbe moaned when he got a closer look at Voldemort's nose. He always had a yearning for his Lord's nose, loving the way it was barely visible. It was a kink of his, among many. Leaning in for a kiss, Crabbe found that not only was Voldemort's nose a stunner, it was also incredibly convenient for kissing since they never seemed to brush noses.

As their lips locked, Tom Riddle closed his eyes and felt Crabbe's lush body mold into his, gently caressing the bigger boy's thick jaw with pale, thin fingers. Crabbe was getting anxious, his well-rehearsed dance becoming forgotten to him as Voldemort's fingers played Sonata No. 16 in C major, K.545 on his cheekbones. It was glorious, and simply as easy as breathing for the two men. "Now, Crabbe…. Undress me," Voldemort breathed.

Gregory Goyle looked over at Crabbe shimmying down Voldemort's pants, gently palming his own heat. This was so erotic it took all his self-control not to join in until he was specifically told to do so. Gregory gently hugged himself with his arms, imagining that they were the sinewy limbs of the Dark Lord. He had always been jealous of Voldemort's preferential treatment, and wanted to prove that he to was a sexual being just as much as Crabbe was.

Once the Dark Lord and Vincent were both undressed, Goyle was given the cue to come over. He tried to use his sexiest walk, his strides short and his hips twisting with every step. He grabbed the thin elastic lining of his speedo and gently tugged it down, turning around in an attempt to impress Voldemort. His ass was round and strong, but not as large as Crabbe's. He hoped Voldemort liked muscle just as much as he liked fat.

Voldemort was almost drooling at the sight of the two willing boys. His hairless noodle was ready for them, and he would show them how powerful he truly was. Grabbing Goyle by his neck, he kissed the boy hard. His tongue entered the other man's moist canal, snake-like and rough as he licked his teeth. Goyle moaned at how Voldemort's long pointed tongue assaulted his mouth. It got him thinking of all the other things he could do with that magical tongue.

Pulling away, Voldemort cast a quick _Engorgio_ on his own love dart, watching the curious dark looks on the boys' faces grow. They had no idea what they were getting themselves into when they agreed to spent the night with their Lord, and the thought of what was in store for them was a buzz like no coffee could ever bring. He ran his long fingers through the boys' short, cropped strands and then trailed them down to brush the boys' eyebrows.

Voldemort sighed a little in envy and pleasure, reminiscing of the days when he too had eyebrows and moaning at the feeling of the short hairs. Hair was a massive turn-on for Voldemort, and it was always pleasurable to him if he was allowed to touch it."Goyle, my dear boy… I want you to pleasure me… fill yourself with me… breathe me in," Voldemort breathed, watching as the boy got onto his beefy knees in front of him.

"Yes, my lord. It would be an honour to be able to service your luscious blue-veined sausage" Goyle replied, pleased at his Master's seemingly impatient lust.

"Now, Crabbe. You will come and allow me to touch your hair-covered chest," the Dark Lord demanded. "Quickly now, boy."

Crabbe was broken out of his gaze on Voldemort's considerable package, and quickly waddled over so that he could begin to stroke his multitude of hairy rolls. Goyle began to pleasure his Lord, sucking him up with more passion than he did when his mother used to buy him chocolate shakes for passing a test. Voldemort was stuck in a black hole of pleasure, with Goyle gobbling him up like a turkey dinner and the feel of Crabbe's thick, slightly moist hair running through his fingertips.

Feeling a sudden surge of confidence, Crabbe gently began stroking his Master's face, watching as it contorted with pleasure. Suddenly, he was hissing out in ecstasy, as Crabbe gently dipped his large fingers into Voldemort's nostrils. He came then, Goyle drinking it up and noting that it certainly was better than the chocolate shakes he had in the past. If he could, he would gladly order the sticky salty sauce of the Dark Lord at The Three Broomsticks if he ever found himself in Hogsmeade.

Voldemort's vivid eyes were feverish as one single glance at the boys in front of him caused his softening member to immediately come to alert once again as if someone had pulled the fire alarm in his dick. "Turn around. Now," he declared to Crabbe, his hands finding home on the soft cleft of his asscheeks. "You, Goyle… sit there and watch what I do to your companion, and know that this is what I will do to you as well later tonight."

As he finished sexily threatening Goyle, he took the plunge, leaping into the warm mass that was Vincent Crabbe. Goyle watched in awe as the boy's body was wracked with pleasurable shivers under the treatment of their Lord, and watched as his moobs jiggled in synchrony with Voldemort's movements. He was becoming so thirsty from this view that he was sure to cast an _Aguamenti_ when they were finished with their amazing night.

Voldemort was merciless, feeling pleasure unlike anything before. He reached over to stroke the nose of Crabbe, rubbing around the edges and feeling his head of hair. Crabbe began shrieking beneath him, and Voldemort began feeling himself coming close again from hearing the sweet cries. With an earsplitting shriek, Crabbe came himself, losing his balance in the aftermath and toppling over. Voldemort grinned maliciously, his own cream spurting out in a fast stream, and glanced over at a starstruck Goyle as he watched his pal wither in pleasure.

All 3 men knew that the night was far from over, in fact it was just beginning. He would fuck the brains out of the boys so many times that he would start a zombie apocalypse. Running a hand on his white pole, he locked gazes with Goyle who immediately walked over, knowing what was next to come and extremely excited for it. After all, what were the perks of being the darkest wizard the world had ever seen if you did not have the endurance to continue an act for hours?

As the sun rose over the horizon, Goyle moaned out, feeling absolutely worn out and fantastic, noting the weight of a beefy leg on his chest. Opening his eyes into small slits, he saw his closest friend passed out in an absolute tangle of sheets. He began to step down onto the cool floor, but felt a sharp pain in his backside. Grinning from ear to ear, Goyle remembered the moments of the night before, how his Lord's hands trailed themselves across his glistening skin and how he felt truly beautiful for the first time in his life.


End file.
